Know Your Onion!
by cocobuta04
Summary: A housewarming, Bob Dylan, Spiders, And everything else in between. Chapter 8: Sean's not waiting to be anybody else's whipping boy.
1. The Prodigal Ass Returns

**Know your Onion!**

**_A/N: the idea of this story just popped up in my head, after seeing this title- Thanks from the lovelies, The Shins- Anywho I don't know whether to make a one shot or keep it going- You tell me. But for now, Enjoy!_**

_**BTW: This takes place during Ellie's junior year in college, and Emma's sophomore year. **_

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**The Prodigal Ass Returns**

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"If you scatter thorns, don't walk barefoot"-**Italian Proverb**

"Does everything look Ok?"

"It looks fine." I said reassuringly as she rearranged a flower pot for the fiftieth time.

"You know he's coming right?" She said slowly as I wiped my finger across the oak table.

"Yeah, I know…Why wouldn't I?"

"Hmmm…."

I looked up at her as she pinned her blonde hair on top of her head, "What's that supposed to mean?" I said crossly, as she walked into the kitchen. I quickly followed her.

"Take a guess."

"Why does everyone assume that I'm bitter? I'm not bitter." I said defensively, as Emma took out a basket that was once hidden in a cabinet underneath the sink. Inside was a pukish green teddy bear and some chocolates. She began to walk back into the living room, and set the basket on the coffee table. She then took some steps back and glanced at it.

"Um, no." She said removing the basket.

"That's not…" I said, trying not to seem intruding, as she walked back into the kitchen once again.

"It is. I couldn't," She said pausing. I didn't know whether or not it was dramatic effect.

"You couldn't what?" I said as we both stopped in our tracks outside the kitchen. She was half heartdeadly holding the basket; the thing about to fall out of her hands and on the floor.

"He meant well, El, Ok? I couldn't do it. I just couldn't, Ok?" She said, the temples in her forehead thumping. I knew I should have dropped it, but I'm unfortunately, not that great with my instincts. Or with anything else.

"Em…" I said in my wannabe "mommy" voice.

"Don't Em me…" She said crossly, flinching at her own name as she violently dumped the basket in the trash. I guess that was the end of it.

"You need to tell him."

"What were we talking about again?"

"I have no idea." I said trying to force down all the busy body thoughts that were flooding my brain.

""I guess I deserve that. I just want everything to be civil again, it just seems right that everyone's going to be together again. Even though I can't explain it, it feels right, you know?"

"No, not really- But I can try."

"Ok."

I looked around. The house was warm, yet cozy. The smell of the sandalwood inscents wafted around the room, as Emma cupped her hands. I wanted to take in everything- The smell, the quiet, everything in the moment. The doorbell started to ring. Emma stood up and began to walk towards the door, as I just stood there- not really wanting the dysfunctional "reunion" to actually begin. Emma opened the door, to see a sly Craig Manning leaning on the door frame. Emma scooped him up in a hug, as I began to stare down at my shoelaces. Emma broke apart from Craig, as he handed her a gift wrapped in brown paper.

"Craig, you really didn't have to…" She said unwrapping the gift.

"It's nothing special really…"

Her face fell after she finished un-wrapping the gift, "Oh. It's Bob Dylan…"

"yeah, but uh this time it's his top Billboard hits album." He said weakly.

"Hmm…I'm just going to put it with the Bob Dylan greatest hits album that you gave me for Christmas, and the Blonde red head album you gave me for Easter two years ago, and the platinum edition DVD and Cd box set collection you sent to me on my birthday last year, and the limited yet rare seventies band t-shirt that you sent me for my birthday two years ago, and everything else that has his name on it." She said annoyed as Craig stepped inside.

She walked upstairs, as I continued to look down at my shoelaces. I could see out the corner of my eye that he was holding a box that seemed like the size of shoebox that was wrapped in starry wrapping paper, behind his back as he settled down on the couch.

"Sit." He said motioning me on the couch. I sat as he took the box from behind his back.

"What is that?" I asked as he put it down on the table.

"It's your gift. I thought that since you and Emma are roomies, that you deserved a little housewarming gift."

"That's…sweet." I said out of surprise as he reached for something in his pocket.

"Don't hurt yourself now." I began to reach for the box before he grabbed my hand. "But you can't open it yet, you have to open it later. However, you can have this for the time being." He said opening his palm to reveal braided leather bound bracelet, I unwillingly let him put it on my wrist.

"So who else is coming?"

"Well from what I know JT and his girlfriend…"

"Good. Someone I haven't slept with yet." He said bitterly as I got up off the couch.

"I want this night to be good. I don't want to screw it up, and mainly I don't want you to screw it up. Em's good, she's happy tonight and I don't want to mess that up." I said quietly as he got up and stood right in my face.

"Don't worry; I've already hidden all the skeletons in my closet."

"Me, too." I whispered.

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The doorbell began to ring again. Craig picked up the box, as I answered the door.

"Elmo!" JT said heartily as he gave me a hug.

"James Tiberius…" I said clenching through my teeth; he obviously didn't notice my frustration.

"Honey, this is Ellie Nash. We went to Degrassi together, and she's roommates with Emma now." He said smiling, as his frigid girlfriend stood awkwardly in the back round. I desperately wanted to do the same.

"Hey, JT."

"Hey, Craig. Honey, this is Craig Manning…" He said his eyes wide as saucers as they walked inside. She too was holding a box. She handed it too me, as JT took her hand.

"I hope you like it." I tore the tape off and opened it to reveal two red matching monogrammed crew neck sweaters, inside I wanted to gag, but then again it's the thought that counts. Or not.

"Very stepford." I heard Craig whisper into my ear, her expression turning sullen. I felt somewhat bad for her in that moment. The fact that she took her time to go to Neiman and Marcus to get a sweater that resembled a rotten tomato, just to please me.

I really am a bitch.

"I'm sorry. I just thought that at this time of year, no one can go without too many sweaters. If you don't like it, the receipt is in the bottom of the box…"

"No, it's fine. Emma will love it. Thanks…"

"Stephanie." JT squeaked as Craig outstretched his hand.

"I'm Craig."

"I know." She said curtly as I closed the gift. Craig looked deflated.

"Let's go into the kitchen."

"Great idea." JT said as he led the way.

"Rude much?" Craig said whispering into my ear as I put the box on the floor.

"My line."

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JT was leaning on the countertop by the time we got into the kitchen, while Sophie was sitting down in a chair. I joined JT as Craig looked through the refrigerator.

"The prodigal ass returns…" I mumbled as Craig continued to scrounge through the refrigerator.

"What was that?" Craig said from the refrigerator, as I ignored him.

"So…How did you two meet?" I said trying to strike up a conversation.

"Well…" JT began.

"We actually met in the Cayman islands,"

"No…We actually didn't meet there, we met in the airport going to the Cayman Islands…" He said correcting.

"No, Jujubee, I exactly remember where we met, and it was on the beach remember?" She said as I smirked. She cleared her throat as JT blushed.

"Jujubee?" Craig said getting up, "Ow." He said bumping his head against the freezer. Ha. And just to gloat some more in this awkwardly funny moment, Ha, Ha.

"Anyways," JT began, "When we met, she was the most reserved person on the whole island. While everyone else was doing Jell-O shots, she was reading Voltaire." He roared loudly, as she began to laugh.

If only all love was this lame.

Craig began to rub his head, "How nice…" I took out a small ice pack and gave it to Craig, as JT continued to talk.

"It was love at first sight."

"At first sight."

"Aww…You both finish each other's sentences, she's a keeper." Emma quipped from the doorway, as JT walked over and gave her a hug.

"This is the infamous Emma. It's great to see you…" He said as Emma gave him a peck on the cheek. Stacy or whatever her name was began to do her weird throat clearing thing as Emma and JT pulled apart.

"Someone's jealous…" JT said mockingly as the doorbell began to ring again. Only five more hours.

"I'll get it." I said, while escaping the uncomfortable tension. I opened the door.

"Oh…Hey." I said somewhat disappointed, as Sean held up a huge box.

"Hey, El."

"Hi Sean. Long time, no see…" I said as he awkwardly gave me what seemed like a hug. This was going to be one hell of a night.

"Yeah, I've been busy. But enough about me, I got you something. A housewarming gift I guess…"

"Thanks." I said while opening the box open to see a very sean-esque gift, A trash compactor.

"A trash compactor…"

"Just in case you want to compact trash."

"Yeah, Just in case."

"If you need anything to be fixed, then just call. I think Em, still has my number." He said shyly as I set the trash compactor down on the floor.

"So now you're Bob the Builder," I said sarcastically, "Well, yesterday while unpacking I found a spider cornered in the kitchen near the stove. I covered it with a paper cup." I said lamely, as he began to laugh.

"I guess I can help with that."

"Ok." I said leading us both into the kitchen.

"This is a nice place you have here…" He said looking around.

"Thanks"

Craig took off the ice pack and set it down on the counter by the time we walked in, "Sean! Sean…Emma, you didn't tell me that Sean was coming. What a surprise." He said clenching his jaw, as I swung my arms back and forth. Emma clasped her hands together.

"Thanks for coming."

"No problem." He said to her, as I walked towards the stove. Sean followed, so did Craig.

"Here it is." I said pointing shyly to the paper cup, as Sean reached out his hand.

"Here is what?" Craig said dumbfounded, as Sean lifted the up the paper cup.

"Don't kill it." I pleaded, as Craig still remained dumfounded.

"What do you want me to do with it?"

"Release it back into the wild or something." I said pathetically.

"What is it a fucking Tiger?" Craig said as I gave him a cross look.

"No it's a spider." I quipped back.

"Then why didn't you just ask me to kill it?"

"Because…you're…you're not handy!" I yelled as Craig took a step back and shelly did her weird throat clearing ritual again.

"Hey…JT, did you just see our new trash compactor? It's shiny…" Emma said trying to get JT out of the kitchen.

"Oh, why I did not…" He said dramatically, as all three of them walked out. Craig bent over began to whisper in my ear. I was hoping that it wasn't going to turn into a weird habit.

"It isn't because I'm not handy is it…"

"Probably not." I whispered back. I watched as Sean, silently, scouped up the spider into the cup, dumped it in the trashcan.

This really was going to be one hell of a night.

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	2. The New Pollution

**A/N: _For those confused, I'm still developing the plotline._**

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**The New Pollution**

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"Men occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of them pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing had happened."-**Winston Churchill**

I must be cursed, that could be the only reason why I'm sitting next to a guy that I've been trying to avoid for what seems like forever, and on my right is the ever so recurring, cryptic musician man slut.

I guess there isn't really a god…

I felt the heat soaking into my skin from the fireplace as I fanned my shirt. I could feel Emma's beady eyes burning a hole into the back of my cranium, already preparing for an excuse. Out of the corner of my eye I could see JT holding on to Sophie with the tact of a Nazi storm trooper, as Emma cleared her throat.

"Are you okay, El?" She said with catlike instincts, cocking her head. JT's grip tightened on Sophie, as she seemed like she was going to keel over on the carpet.

"I'm fine." I lied, even though it wasn't that hard to lie to someone that you cared about-or at least for me it wasn't. Then again, I have a truth complex. She slid back into the couch, and with that her flippant, I-know-everything-and-I-know-that-your-lying-face relaxed for five minutes, and instead she pursed her lips.

"Of course she's ok." Craig said slinging his arm around my shoulder. I could see Sean's eyes slowly widen, as he didn't want to seem like some stereotypical, alpha male boyfriend- I looked up at Craig to see his snidefull grin. This couldn't be happening. I grabbed Craig's arm and took it off my shoulders, as he gave me a look.

"Craig. You. Me. Bathroom. Now." I said urgently, while blushing madly. Craig followed my lead, as I ran into the bathroom. He slowly caught up, and I quietly closed the door.

"Tis' the season to be, jolly." Craig said grabbing my head, as I quickly turned around. He didn't have the right to swoon me, or to particularly swoon me by cheesy, over-played, Christmas carols. He seemed unfazed by this and sat down in tub.

"Why do you always do this?" I mumbled as he kicked off his shoes.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just stop being an Idiot."

"You know I can't do that." He said mockingly as I rolled my eyes.

"God, I HATE you Manning. I do," I said facing the door, trying not to smirk. I could hear him getting out of the bathtub, and almost falling back in. He grabbed my forearm and turned me around.

"You're so mean, Nash, I swear…" He said sitting down on the floor. I kicked his leg with my foot, and every time I did so, the back of his head lightly banged the door. It's almost too easy. Its funny how nothing can turn into something with him, usually I would get bored, but hell, as of now this should be an Olympic sport.

"Stop it." He says finally, as I scoff quietly. I decide to slide down and sit down next to him, the tile feeling cold on my uber white legs as I fix my skirt. I watch as he tugs on his red shirt with the odd shaped bleach stain that I caused, accidentally. Or possibly not. He puts his head on my even paler shoulder, and even though I wanted to shake it off- I will allow him a five minute leeway. After this I quickly take his head off my shoulder, and lean it on the door.

"You hungry?" He asked.

"You're like a trash compactor."

Craig turned just enough towards me for me to blank expression on his face. I guess it's time for "let's open the Pandora's Box, and take a look into Craig's ever puzzling mind" game. I turn towards him, already tired even though I don't know what he's actually going to say, even though I know that it's probably unfinished.

"They want me to go on a small tour in the states this fall. It's going to be in a bunch of hole-in-the wall clubs, but they say that it'll give me a competitive edge, whatever that means."

"Who are 'they'?"

"You know, they. The record company, Joey, Manny, Marco, You…" He said quietly as I tapped my feet on the floor.

"I'm not forcing you to go on tour. I'm not forcing you to do anything."

"You told me to go to Vancouver." He said truthfully, even though I knew he was right.

I forced him to go to Vancouver and encouraged him to go through with all his Keats esque aspirations. I gave him a line that seemed to perfectly fit in an 80's brat pack movie and encouraged him to go. Then again it wasn't all my doing, if Marco and always knowing gay man ways hadn't pointed out that I had a thing for Craig, I wouldn't have cared either way. It wasn't Marco's entire fault, possibly it was the fact that I felt like I owed a huge karmic debt to the world.

Or cupid and his little satanic anecdotes always got in the way. If that wasn't the reason, then I'll blame it on euphoria or the amount of nitrogenous acid pollution in the air.

"You don't have to go on tour." I say gulping, as he leaned his head back on the door.

"We should get back downstairs." He said getting up, as I remained on the floor.

I watched as he left out the door, and closed it softly behind him. He always managed to do this, Craig Manning the emotional guy with the clichéd guitar shtick. Surprisingly, I always fell into his mood altering drama, or somewhere next to it. But we were the same, we dealt with our problems the same way, introverted while submissively avoiding them. I've learned this neat fact about Craig Manning along with many others, yet this time it was just annoying. Annoying to the point that tonight, Craig Manning was going to eat crow in one way or another.

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I slowly got up and opened the door. I could hear Emma's voce resonating from the downstairs, as I walked down the stairs.

"Oh, this used to be my parent's house. They recently moved to Florida…" I smirked at this tidbit of information, as I finally made my way downstairs to see Craig sitting on the opposite couch with Emma. Stacy was sitting in a spare chair next to JT, who could also be known as Mao Zedong, judging by his facial expression. I sat down next to Sean, as I could feel Craig grimace expression as I leaned back into the couch.

"So Eleanor," Stacy started off

"You can just call me Ellie." I said distractedly, as Stacy began to clear her throat again.

"Like I was going to say, what made you decide to move in with Emma?" She said trying to be polite, even though she came off being snottily- If that's even a word. She cracked her neck slowly, waiting for my answer.

"Um, well I and Emma became friends later on in my freshman year. I had just gotten kicked out of my apartment, and she offered me to come stay with her if I wanted to whenever she gotten her own place. I guess the offer still stands and two years later, here I am." I said pathetically, while eyeballing Craig out the corner of eye. Even though he possibly wouldn't admit it, he was doing the same thing.

"That's nice. I had a roommate in college, annoying as all out," She said as both her and JT laughed in unison, "Eventually; she transferred to a community college in Upstate New York." She said disgusted while grasping JT's hand.

"Hmm…How sweet." Emma said while finishing up her drink. Craig quickly rubbed his hands together, as I fixed my skirt again.

"Sean, would you like a beer?" Emma asked as I snapped out of whatever trance I was in. I looked over at Sean, who suddenly seemed tense.

"No, I'm fine."

Craig cleared his throat, "Ahem, I'll have a beer, I'm parched." He said coolly, as Sean squandered around in his seat.

"Scratch what I just said; I'll have a beer, Em."

"Ok, two beers coming up…" As she got up slowly. She gave me a look motioning me to get up as well.

"Craig, can you come here?" Emma said sweetly from the kitchen doorway. Craig got up slowly, and I proceeded to drag him into the kitchen.

"Wha-" He said whispering, as Emma punched him in the arm. "Hell, Em, what was that for?"

"Can't you take a subtle hint!" She barked whispering, as I opened the fridge. I took out two beers, and shoved them into Craig's hands. His face grimaced, as I slammed it shut.

"Thank you, evil spawn." He growled as Emma took out some index cards from a drawer.

She handed him a thick stack, "Here. I thought that I didn't have to use these tonight, but I guess I thought wrong.

"

"And these are…"

"Conversation cards. Just in case you cause another awkwardly tense moment" She said while closing the drawer.

"He seemed up to it." Craig said as I dramatically scoffed.

As if he was going to get off that easy. I heard what seemed like the doorbell ringing as Emma handed him another thick green stack.

"These are for small talk. I think that Stephanie has this area covered, but just in case…" Emma said trailing off.

"Um, Em, you might want to get out here…" Sean projected loudly from the living room. We walked out into the living room, Craig following behind- only to see Sean standing in the doorway. Emma squeezed around Sean. Standing on the other side of the doorway, was a cop who seemed like he really didn't care about anything-and didn't seem to enough brain cells or the capacity to think either, stood twiddling his pen. Emma crossed her arms.

"Hello, Officer, how can I help you?"

"Are you a Miss. Emma Nelson?"

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A/N: I really couldn't think of a good chapter title for this one. Does anyone have something else?


	3. Beers Between Acquaintances

**_A/N: This chapter will be in Craig's point of view (head's up), so don't get confused…_**

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**Beers between acquaintances**

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"Let me feel now what sharp distress I may"-**Charles Dickens**

I've given my share of gifts to women- The diagnosis of bipolar disorder, le cheating du jour, manic episodes, ultimatums, abortions, the Ramones- However, giving someone a stripper somewhat crosses the line- maybe not for me perhaps.

"Yes. I'm Emma Nelson." She said crossly, as Ellie eyed me again out of the corner of her eye. I have that effect on women.

"I have some complaints that have been filed about the noise level coming from this house." He said stupidly as Emma began to tense up.

"May I ask what complaints are these? Because we aren't doing anything wrong…" She said rigidly, as I held in the laughter.

"Well, I'm going to check around anyways." He said whipping out a small boom box.

Emma looked confused as Ellie glared at me. I simply shrugged my shoulder as he pressed play. Obnoxious and very nineties, stripper techno music came blaring out the speakers. Emma shielded her face with her arms as the guy began to dance closer.

"Who sent you?!" She said yelling over the music, as I chuckled while walking into the kitchen.

I walked towards the fridge and searched for a beer. This whole hide and seek routine was refreshing yet tiring. The chase, the cold shoulder, the awkwardness of it all was the only thing that I knew how to do, and I sure as hell was fucking great at it. I finished up my beer and threw the glass bottle in the trash. I turned around face to face with Stella, JT's girlfriend.

Looking up and down, she was Ok, but she wasn't great, possibly not even good. Her blonde bun reflected the light, as the redness spread from her cheeks. It seemed to be that awkward elephant in the room was getting its full share of enjoyment. She cleared her throat or whatever, as I grabbed another beer.

"I'm sorry," She said stuttering, as I twisted off the cap, "I didn't know that you were in here… I just wanted to get away from you-know-what…" She said trailing off as I ignored her and glanced into the living room.

Only to see the guy now humping the table, as Emma effortlessly continued to hit him with a jacket, while continuing to look shell shocked. It was all too hilarious really. The inner feminist inside her must be slowly wilting.

"Yeah, is it me or is it hot in here? I don't know maybe it's the room temperature, but I swear…" She was still talking, hmm.

"Uh-huh." I said zoning out again, feeding the awkwardness. She looked down at her patent leather shoes as I finished off another beer.

"Your friends seem, friendly. I don't know exactly if they fancy me, but they seem nice." She said unconfidently as I looked her over once again.

A strand of her hair hung limp next to her cheek. I could see the outline of her collarbone sticking out from her blouse, as she weakly smiled at me. I felt sorry for her. I felt sorry for the fact that she had to ride the rigid conveyor belt of life; the fact that JT probably didn't care that much about her; the fact that she was taken for granted; the fact that she oddly reminded me of what Manny used to be. I reached into the refrigerator again and pulled out another beer.

"Well, I like you." I said drinking some more. I ran my fingers through my hair, and glanced at her solemnly.

"Thanks…" She said confused, as I opened into the refrigerator once more, "not to be nosy or anything, but don't you think you've had enough?" I smirked and turned around to hand her the beer, she wrinkled her nose in slight disgust.

"Do you want to talk?" I said desperately as she took the beer out of my hand. I began to start drinking mine again, as she set hers down on the table.

"I don't know how to exactly respond to that…" She said confused at my flirtish diatribe. Suddenly, a loud shriek came from the living room.

"I guess that's our que…" She said weakly, as I finished off another beer and threw it in the trash.

"Well, the offer still stands." I said solemnly as she nodded and walked into the living room.

I followed suite, only to see Elle squeezing the organs out of what I soon realized was Marco. Stella speed walked over to her corner, and stood awkwardly, as Ellie finally let go. I looked over at Emma, who cheeks were flushed, and still was holding the jacket. Sean gave Marco a civil hand slap, as Ellie fixed her hair. I watched Stella out of the corner of my eye, as JT gave Marco a mutual hug. It was my turn, here we go.

"Hey, man. What's up?" I said lamely, as I gave him a hug. I could feel Ellie's and Stella's eyes burning into my back as I let go.

"Nothing, much, you?"

"Pretty much the same." I said cryptically, as Emma walked towards him.

I watched the hallmark greeting card moment from a distance, as Ellie disappeared into the kitchen.

"I thought that you couldn't make it!" Emma said cheerily as Marco handed her a bouquet of flowers.

"Yeah, me too. It seems that I could leave early. Did you enjoy my gift?" He said smirking. Emma raised her hand, and pointed towards the door.

"_That_ was your gift." She said disgusted. Leave it to the rainbow coalition to pick out a good housewarming gift. I mean who needs cutlery or a matching set of piggy plates, seriously.

"I guess that's a yes." He said hanging his coat on the coat rack.

"Em already has the sexual harassment papers filed out." I said sarcastically, as we all began to file back towards the couch. JT and Stella sat away from Marco and Emma, while I sat across from the four of them, on my left, Sean. Joy.

"I come bearing drinks." Ellie said bringing out six beers; I splashed my tongue around the inside of my mouth, trying to savor the remaining bit of alcohol still present in my system.

Marco put up his hand to signal that he didn't want one, "No beer. Do you have any Seltzer water?" Marco said in a perky, gay man type of way.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm up for any type of Alcoholic beverage tonight." Stella squeaked from what seemed like the corner of nowhere. Ellie tried her best to be civil, however it was very weak and strained.

"Sean, um, do you want anything else?" She asked trying to be polite, as Stella nervously cleared her throat again; Ellie subtly shot a glare her way. I watched as Stella submissively shrunk and crawled back into her imaginary hole.

"No thanks, I'm okay."

"I'm fine too. Just sitting here wasting away in the corner." Ellie may get her fair share of pleasure by being obnoxiously bitchy and bitter- meanwhile, a hint of an lyric from an Emo song and a scathingly, narcissistic remark is how I make a living.

"Haven't you had enough?" She quipped crossly, obviously not humored by my diatribe. I sunk into the couch, as Stella began to clear her throat again, which began to become extremely annoying.

"So, Marco, are you and Ellie an item?" She said obliviously, as I let out a chuckle.

Surprisingly, a light pink color began to rise up from Marco's hands to his cheeks. Ellie walked back in, handing Marco a glass of water.

"Unfortunately, no," He took a sip of his water, "We're just good friends. I'm gay." He said as Stella seemed to tense up. Emma looked over at Stella with a look that some would call concerned as Ellie, again subtly, rolled her eyes.

"Oh. I love the gay community, don't get me wrong. My uncle was," She said trailing off.

"Gay." Ellie said abruptly, finishing her sentence. Stella began to wring and fidget with her hands.

"Yes. He passed away recently."

"How?" Marco said trying to seem interested.

"He jumped off his apartment balcony." She said bluntly, with such an innocence of an eight year old. It reminded me of the time when, at dinner, Angie asked what a condom was. That kind of innocence. Emma and Marco seemed awkwardly uncomfortable- so did Sean. However, Ellie's gave her a look that had the words 'you-are-a-mindless-arrogant-bigot'plastered over her face. Marco drank some more of his water, as I looked over at the clock.

Only 7:20? Dammit.

"I never caught your name?" Marco said not really interested, but wanted to start up some type of conversation.

"Stephanie." She said meekly.

I would've have never pictured her as a Stephanie. Then again, I would've have never pictured as a Stella either. Emily, maybe- but Stella sounded better. I felt a shoe brush up against my ankle. I jerked my foot fast, as it shook off quickly, my entire body on alert. My nerve endings were getting tangled on the way towards my brain in one big traffic jam. Was she trying to send me mixed signals? I turned towards my left. Ellie, however, was looking towards JT's direction and didn't bother to look towards me. I followed my instinct, and placed my foot near her ankle. Just to make sure, I looked down. It was Sean's.

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_**A/N: Just to let you know, I'm not going to make this story one of those pesky Mary Sue's where the quiet, new character hooks up with Craig- Because quite frankly those stories annoy me. I just wanted to see what type of reviews I would get. BTW, the next chapter will be in Craig's POV again (just to let you know).**_


	4. All Hail The Substitutes

**_A/N: Even though I don't want to seem like one of those authors that begs for a certain number of reviews, but I would like some. Was my last chapter that bad? Or is the lackluster amount of reviews because of sheer laziness? I really do want to know. Anyways, enough of my whining and here's another chapter:_**

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**All Hail the substitutes **

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"I've had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it."- **Groucho Marx **

From the corner of my ear, half eavesdropping, half out of sheer laziness listened halfheartedly to Emma and Ellie's conversation from the kitchen.

"I don't think its right for you to hold a grudge…" Emma said trailing off. Maybe I should try to be less of an ass for that statement to have some type of value.

"Well…He started it."

I started it? How elementary. Then again, I shouldn't be the one to talk; but I'm perfectly content with being the pot.

"Isn't someone oozing dramatics?" I focused my attention off the "he said, she said" conversation in the kitchen, to see Marco, now sitting down right next to me.

"Hey. Before we start assigning parts, I want to be the kettle." I said defensively.

"Point taken. So I assume that you and you're ever complex other half, Mr. I'm so contradicting, did it again?"

I was taken aback by his bluntness, it wasn't naturally him," And since when have you been so blunt?"

"I don't know. It's funny the things you learn after watching the same things over and over again." He said sarcastically.

"I told her that I was going on tour. Then I blamed her for it. In a way." I blurted out. Marco furrowed his eyebrows, and intertwined his fingers. I waited for his Aristotle philosophical thinking period to come to an end.

"All sarcasm aside, you're really stupid." He said emphasizing the word 'stupid'. In a way, I was hoping for him to slap me, because really the party was starting to get bland. Then again I guess a stripper can do that to an event.

"Well, you're wrong," I quipped," because I'm always stupid."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

I walked out of the living room, wanting to get away from Marco, my conscious, everyone's stares. I walked towards the staircase, to see Stephanie-Stella, sitting on a step. However she was able to disappear from one place to another so quickly, was a mystery to me. She caught my eyes and motioned me with a nod of her head to come up and sit with her. I didn't oblige, and sat down as she made some room. I ran my hand up and down the railing, bored.

"So does the offer still stand?" She said, smiling weakly. For some reason, the only thought in my head, was what kind of toothpaste she used.

"Of course it still stands; I'm a man of my word," She looked at me unbelievingly, "Sometimes." I said laughing, she following suite. She slowly began to crack each muscle in her finger, the awkward elephant beginning to fill up the whole room.

"I don't think you're friends like me."

"Which one?"

"Probably all of them," She began to laugh again," Especially the redhead, especially her."

"Aww. Aren't you naïve? Wait until she becomes bitter, and hates your every intake of Oxygen. Yep, you two will be bussum buddies in no time." I said mockingly, making her laugh again. Her laugh was nice, fresh. It didn't have bitter undertones, or shards of being jaded. It was just refreshing, I liked her laugh.

"So."

"So…"

"Do you and the redhead…are you together?" She asked without the same eight year old innocence that she once held ten minutes earlier. This time she asked it with a hint of anxiousness and disbelief.

"She's the love of my life," I said waiting for an expression, but she did not give me one," No. we're not together. I don't think she would consider us friends anymore. I guess that we're just a waste of metabolic cells that interact and argue with one another."

"I think she has a think for you. Or maybe it's just my stupid hindsight vision." She said, somewhat tense.

"Had. You mean had."

"Ah. So who's your substitute?" She said, as I gave her a bemused look.

"What?"

"A substitute is the person that replaces the one that you really want. Just like tofu for meat." She said giggling at the comment. I shot her another smirk.

"Good analogy. Would porn count?" I said mockingly, as she began to laugh again, instead this time came a snort. I soon laughed at this too. "So, are you a substitute?" I said, in a joking manner, instead she stopped laughing. Stella slowly began to straighten the collar of blouse. It seems like whenever I try not to seem like an ass, I always become one. Figures.

"All my life," She said leaning her chin on her hand. I watched as her demeanor slowly changed, a part of me intrigued. "Do you think JT means well?"

"Sure…" I said not knowing what really to say.

"I, mean, he wants to get married."

"Married?" I said looking over once again. She seemed young, bittersweet, someone hardly ready to get ready.

"I know. I mean, when I was younger I wanted to have the big, fancy wedding with the guy that I loved. That I really loved. Not some guy that doesn't even have the time to talk to me, nonetheless, even possibly like me."

"So don't get married." I said simply.

"I can't. Hell, JT may not talk to me that much, but he's going to fucking going to Brown! Brown of all places. You just don't dump a guy who's going to Brown." I watched as the contradicting shit spilled out of her mouth. Instead of seeming innocent and naive, now she was just whiny. Whiny and bitter, just like some other twenty something fucker. That made bored of her. Bored of everything she had to offer.

"Why? So you can breed perfect blue eyed, blond haired, babies dressed in Lacoste polos, someday ignoring you too?" Fuck. I watched the doubt that ceased her lips, fold into a disappointed frown. Instead of seeing the stiff blonde, I instead saw Ellie. I saw Ellie complaining, and whining. I saw Ellie's facial expressions. I wanted to see Ellie's face after I gave her another scathing blow. I wanted to see her cry, and that pain fueled me even more to not commit to her and give in. Her pain made me feel better, just as it did with her. Instead of taking it out on Ellie, I took it out on the now, whimpering eight year old that was sitting next to me. She didn't deserve this. Ellie didn't deserve it. Hell, no one deserves me.

"I'm sorry." I said, as she stared mindlessly down at her shoes. I slowly got up off the step, my butt kind of numb, as I balanced on the railing. I made my way down the steps slowly. I stopped and looked back over my shoulder. Stella's face now was off her patent leather shoes.

"It was nice talking to you, Craig." She said weakly, as if she was reading off a cue card.

"You too." I said, continuing to walk down the steps. I was too involved in my own thoughts, to notice the fact that Ellie was right in my way. Her hair seemed a little disheveled, as she snapped the arm bands on her wrists. It annoyed the way she did that. The way she kept her own rhythm when she did it.

"Emma wants to talk to you." She squeaked quietly. I looked back over my shoulder again, to still see Stella sitting there, unfazed by the fact that Ellie, the person that possibly hated her being, seemed more messed up than she did.

"Why?" I asked curtly. She didn't answer me, and I made my way down the steps. Ellie followed me, then separating from me and walking into the living room. When I got into the kitchen, I saw Emma leaning on the stove.

"Got anymore cue cards to make up?"

"No. I just wanted to let you know that Manny is coming. I just got a call from her on her cell. She's on her way." Emma said.

"There's a way to put it all out there." Stupid cupid and his satanic ways. Stupid love. I watched the muscles in Emma's jaw tense and relax.

"Craig, she's my friend. She's been my friend since Kindergarden. I can't just be like 'I hate you, and by the way I own a house now.'"

"I use that line on my Christmas cards every year." I said snidely. Emma inhaled a huge sigh.

"She's like an estranged, yet dysfunctional sister to me, I can't just leave her out in the cold."

"Whatever. I wanted to tell you that I was going to leave."

"Craig…" Emma said pleading. Her eyes seemed tired at everything that's happened so far, at me.

"Don't Craig me, OK. It will be good if I leave, I've done my time. Ellie hates me. I hurt Stella," Emma cocked her eyebrow at me, as I continued to babble," and I just have a bad feeling that I'm going to ruin this whole thing anyways. I don't want to do that to you…"

"Look Craig, I asked you to come here because I wanted you to. Ellie had nothing to do with it. I wasn't expecting to give you a pity party, it's just…Craig, you deserve some of the good moments too." She said softly, I sat down, waiting for her to continue her heartning soap box spheel, but she didn't- which was disappointing, because it felt like she gave up on me, by not reiterating her point for the hundredth time.

"Fine. As long as she brings the bullets."

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I walked towards the stairs, hoping for Stella to still be there, wallowing in her own loveless self pity. She was, as I saw her wringing her hands and softly tapping her shoe on the railing. She was stretched out the stair sideways, her long blonde hair hanging. I sat down on the step below, waiting for her to at least acknowledge me.

"So you're back for more?" She said quietly.

"Yeah. I am."

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**_A/N: If you haven't already read, Manny's going to be in the up and coming chapter, and it's going to be in her point of view. For all those who hate Cranny, it's not going to be a cranny- because I'm not too fond on Cranny's myself. However, I'm not promising a Crellie, either. I haven't exactly made up my mind yet. Or maybe I might just let Craig be by his lonesome, who knows… Eventually there will be a chapter in Sean's and Emma's point of view. I'm even considering bringing Jimmy in the story, even though I don't exactly know how I'll tie him in… Like I said in my huge spheel at the top, I would like some more reviews, even constructive critism._**


	5. Papa's Got A New Dress

_**A/N: For all those who were wondering what Craig meant by "She's the love of my life", he was being sarcastic-as you can tell, there is a lot of sarcasm in this story. I love sarcasm, and literally live in it. **_

_**If you're still wondering about that weak excuse for a care package that Emma trashed in the first chapter, that information is coming up soon…**_

_**For those who are pondering about whether or not Sean is gay, I'll let you figure that one out…**_

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**Papa's got a new dress**

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"Fear is that little dark-room where negatives are developed"- **Michael Pritchard**

Ok. You can do this. You can totally do this.

If only it were that easy.

I straightened out my dress, which seemed to already have a bad omen oozing out of it's seems and hovering over my head. Bad things are eventually going to happen in this dress, I can feel it. This dress is apart of the bad clothes- the bad clothes that reside in the left side of my closet. The same bad clothes that I try to avoid wearing, in order to prevent bad things from happening in the first place. But I guess this dress is a deviation to that rule. Then again I've always been superstitious- never placing a hat on the bed, making sure not to step under a ladder or anything else that has been higher than I am, crossing the street whenever a black cat has passed my way (Or a Dark Grey cat that has an uncanny resemblance to a black cat), trying not to make a crack in any of my mirrors. I have been abiding by these unspoken rules ever since my brother told me during Sunday school that if I didn't I'd go to Hell. Even though it seems childish, maybe that's why I have a worn out rabbit's foot, a cross, and everything else from a magic shop in my purse. Besides my freakish fear of the cats and hats, I cannot go in there.

Eleanor Nash is in there.

The same Eleanor Nash, who as of right now, would probably want to hang me on a telephone pole somewhere, and let me rot there for a month-Ok, that was my morbid thought. The same Eleanor Nash who Craig didn't pick. The same Nash that threw a drumstick at my head. Which makes me think, why did I exactly pick Craig? Was it the fact that he treated me like underwear? Wait. Wrong analogy, way wrong. Anyways that's besides the point. I, Manuela Maria Santos, am going to march my ass into the house for the wretched Degrassi reunion that I never wanted to come, ruin some lives, and then leave.

That was the plan. Wasn't it?

I rang the doorbell, and took a step back from the door, wondering if they expected me to actually show up. I saw Emma's blue eye through the peek hole in the door, and then heard the unlocking of the door lock. Emma swung the door open, not looking a day over eighteen. Out the corner of my eye, I could see Sean sitting on the couch looking like the nonchalant James Dean that he always is. Ellie stood, fuming, in the back corner of the living room, with her arms crossed over her chest. I should definitely send her a Christmas gift. I could see JT with some blonde in the left corner of living room, with a glare on his face that was directed towards Craig, who seemed sluggish, and had a look on his face that seemed to be saying, "Yeah, I totally fucked your girlfriend." Oops. He did it again. No one could say that Craig didn't have a low amount of testosterone. Marco, the only one who seemed joyful besides Em, was standing right beside her. Before I could say anything, Emma scooped me up in a tight hug.

"I love you too, Em." I said, strained, considering that she was cutting off my circulation.

"It's so good to see you, Manny." She said burrowing her head into my shoulders; I felt a wet, sloppy tear on my shoulder. It felt nice knowing that maybe I got my best friend back. Maybe it would be a little bit more bearable with Emma somewhat on my side. It all felt really comforting.

"You look amazing, Manny." Marco said while Emma finally let me go.

"This old thing? I just found it in my closet."

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I followed Emma into the kitchen, watching every one sulk and glare as I passed by. I took it all in, as Emma reached into the refrigerator and grabbed me a beer. I took it, the coldness from being in the refrigerator, spreading across my hand. Emma leaned on the counter, a smirk on her face.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. It's just weird, being in this house still, you being here, nothing drastically dramatic happening. Even though you did miss the stripper."

"Really? Because I had my single dollar bills ready…" I said mockingly. Instead of laughing, Emma bum rushed me and gave me another bear hug. It wasn't as tight this time, as I hugged her back.

"Em, Are you preggers?" I asked in my most sympathetic voice that I could pull off, as Emma let go off me. I watched as she continued to sniffle, and fan her eyes. I walked over to the paper towel dispenser and ripped one off for her. She took it still crying, and dabbed her eyes, her mascara slowly getting ruined.

"No, I'm just," She said pausing for breath and crying even more," Just really happy." I smiled, at her and walked over to give her a hug.

She broke out laughing again, which in reverse effect made me cry. I wondered how pathetic we looked to anyone who walked in. Emma pulled apart from me, and gave me a paper towel, in which I began to dab my eyes and try to save my eyeliner and mascara from being smudged and looking like a drunken ex-wife. We both tried to regain ourselves, both trying to be drama free.

"Did you see our shiny, new trash compactor?" She said pulling a Vana white and pointing at the bulky thing that took up a corner of the kitchen. I began to laugh a little, imagining Sean passing by the jewelry section, and buying that thing.

"A trash compactor. Very Sean."

"That's what I thought…So who is Manuela Santos with now?" she said trying to make up small talk.

"Just Me, Myself, and I. And possibly Orlando Bloom, only in my dreams." I said mockingly, as she cracked a smile.

"I don't believe that. Manuela Santos is always with someone new." I flinched at this, knowing that she used to be right.

"That was the old Manuela Santos. The new one is eventually going to die from exhaustion. This whole actress thing isn't as glamorous as they make it out to be."

"Are you kidding me? You're going to be in a movie. When have you been so modest?" She said disbelievingly.

I blushed at this comment, for some reason. In a way she was right. I'm not like the old, somewhat skanky, Manny- the one who'd always be up for anything, the one who had gotten knocked up, had most of her hair pulled out in cat fights over her cumulative four years of Degrassi, the called, uncalled 'slut'. Now I was boring, with the rest of the thirty and forty year olds of the 'normal' world. Everything exciting seems boring to me, chasing after boys suddenly seemed stupid, and going to the mall seems pointless. I'm no longer the girl in the mall, naive, full of that high school air. I'm just simply boring. Boring enough to talk and actually listen to my mom when I call her every Wednesday; boring enough to already have the names of the kids that I want to have (Kirsten, Charlotte, Owen, and Margo); boring enough to have to schedule in my life; boring enough to own and use a maroon day planner. Surprisingly, I'm perfectly content with it.

"Em, it's no big deal. It's not like I have a leading role or anything, I'm just a minor character, the stereotypical 'caring' friend role." I said modestly, taking a sip of beer, and hating the taste. Even beer seems unappealing to me now. Stick a cheap suit on me, and I can do PSA ad's all day.

"That's a bigger part than I'll ever have." She said taking a big gulp of her beer. I set mine's down on the table.

"I'm sorry. About everything." I said truthfully, opening a huge awkward silence gap in the room. I watched Emma dab her blood red eyes once more, before walking over towards me. I watched in silence as she placed her hands on my shoulder. I felt her give them a little squeeze, as I began to sniffle from our previous sob fest.

"Me too."

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I sunk into Emma's couch and relaxed, taking in everyone's problems around me. I watched as JT and blonde, who's name I still don't know, were arguing in the corner of the room. I could hear bits and pieces of their conversation, even though they were trying to make it seem like nothing was going on.

"JT, not now." She snarked, trying to do her best to whisper.

"What do you mean, "Not now?" JT said trying to do his best to not be belligerent. This wasn't

Working either.

"God, JT. Let's try to have a civil time." She quipped back.

"First, why were you with Craig Manning? Craig Manning of all people…"

Ah, the name that never wants to bestow a guy's lips. Especially about his girlfriend. I wonder what Craig did this time. I watched as they both decided to continue their conversation upstairs, and walked up the steps. I felt the couch sank some more, and looked to my right to the Craig Manning, sitting next to me. What good times we would have.

"Aren't those two a hoot?" He said mockingly, with his signature smirk plastered on his face.

The same smirk that in a way made me fall for him in the first place. What exact control did he over me, the whole entire female sex for matter. Why did he have to make me doubt and contradict my thoughts? I'm supposed to be boring. I am boring, dammit. Breath, Manuela, Breathe. I'm over Craig Manning, really I am. Why can't I help for those bittersweet memories to still rewind and fast forward in my mind whenever he's around? Even though I am over Craig, he will always be a puppeteer in my life, and that's what haunts me. That and his ghosts. All his ghosts that seem to rally together whenever I'm around. His ghosts will always haunt me, as mine with his. I guess that's the way it's going to be. Haunting one another. The old Manny would have been flattered at his playful flirting, and came right back with some more of it. The new Manny, the new Manny is simply tired and used to Craig's routine.

"So what did you do this time."

"I am shocked", he said faking being shocked, I couldn't help but smirk at him for this," that you would think that I did something." I gave him a non flirty look, as he sobered up and became his defending, serious self.

"All we did was talk."

"And that's how it begins."

"Ouch. Why does everyone hate me tonight," He said spitefully, as I made no reaction towards him. I didn't hate him, but he didn't have to know that, "I just wanted to say that you look good." He said sincerely.

"You look good too." He really did. He had developed some honorary rock star scruff on the bottom of his chin. His brown hair, still curly, had grown out since the last time I saw him and in a way reminded me of Jim Morrison. He was wearing the shirt that I hated, the red Velvet Underground t-shirt that had a big bleach patch on the side.

"I wanted to say that you won."

"Excuse me?" I said confused, as he played with his ring made out black stone that lay on his left finger.

"You won. You have a steady career. You're going to be in a fucking motion picture for Christ sakes, Manny. You know what you want to do, and you're still not caught up in all this Degrassi drama shit. You have your life together, and even though I hate to admit it, I'm jealous of that- so, you won." He said, solemnly looking me in the eyes. Craig rarely revealed his soul without a confusing puzzle attached. It was weird, everything was weird.

"No, Craig. You're wrong. You won. You're living this adventurous life out in Vancouver, pursuing your dreams. Meanwhile, I'm here, on a movie set with stale donuts, in a movie that I don't even want to see when it's done. My life revolves around a schedule now, and I'm not the old person I used to be, because I don't want to be," I said saying more than I intended," My life is boring, very boring. I say my lines, talk to my mother- which is something I never thought I ever be able to actually endure- I know how many kids I want, and I know their names and where they're going to school. I feel old, Craig. I feel really old. Your life is fun. I don't think I can handle anymore fun. So you won. "I said finishing my spheel, about how much my life sucks, trying not to cry.

Craig's eyes were now glued to mine, with an expression that I exactly couldn't read. I didn't want him to judge me. I was sick of being judged, sick of being criticized. In this moment, I wanted to be like Ellie, and crawl into my own little hole. Craig put his hand on my shoulder, and for the first time that I could actually recall, tried to be a friend. I guess that's what I needed, for the feelings of lust to drain from our bodies, and to just be friends- considering that he knew me as well as Emma did. I let his warm hand remain on my shoulder, like a beacon of light, as I desperately tried not to cry. His hand then started to rub my back the way I liked it, as I rested my chin in the palm of hand. After a few minutes of this, he stopped and got up off the couch.

"I don't want things to be awkward between us Manny," He said moving a strand of hair out hair of my face, me still not wanting to cry," So I'm going to let you be, OK?" he said soothingly, my chin in his hand.

"OK." I said softly, as he finished rubbing my shoulder while walking towards the basement. I watched as he descended down the stairs.

If it weren't for Craig Manning's ghosts.

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**_A/N: I hoped you liked that chapter. I didn't want to portray Manny as she usually is- Flirty, skanky, childish, naïve, and instead I wanted to bring out a more jaded side. I wanted to make Craig seem like less of an asshole for once. The next chapter will be in Manny point of view again, just a head's up._**


	6. Apologizes and Goodbyes

**_A/N: This chapter will be in Manny's perspective. My chapter names have been sucky lately, any good suggestions?_**

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**Apologizes and Goodbyes**

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"Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then it suddenly flips over. Pinning you underneath. At night. The ice weasels come."-**Matt Groening**

I watched as my hands finally stopped trembling, and began to flex and contract the muscles in my forehead. What happened to having a boring, drama free night? What simply happened to being boring? The battle of the bulge, Craig, had worn me down. He hadn't swooned me necessarily, but he sure as fuck worn me down. That's what I hated about him the most. The fact that he had always had the ability to ware me down, the ability to make lose my once tightly fastened head off my shoulders. He always did it, always without fail. With Craig Manning you could be one of two things: The hunter, or the hunted. I knew which way to not fall into either statistic, by being more honest than he could ever be. Knowing what I had to do I got up and walked downstairs to the basement. I walked down to see him lying down on Emma's old bed, tracing his finger around the edge of a dusty picture frame. I stood on the step for a while watching him, amused by the fact that he could easily get excited about anything.

"Manny is that you?" He asked, as I walked down a step, and straightened out my dress. I sat down towards the end of the bed, as he sat up.

"Craig. Can we talk?"

"Why not." He said nonchalantly, as he rested his arms behind his head. I watched as his smug expression remained plastered on his face, in a way that I wanted to slap off. I wanted to slap him for the fact that he took nothing seriously, for the fact that in a way I was getting madder.

"I want us to be friends."

"And we weren't before?" He said in a way that wasn't exactly asking, yet it wasn't necessarily sarcastic. I could feel my throat slowly clench, not knowing how to really react to his statement.

"I don't think that you can consider what we had before, friendship." I squeaked my voice cracking as I did so.

I watched Craig run his hands through his makeshift beard, and eventually began to scratch the bottom of chin. I watched as he did this, as he scratched the tuff of hair in circles. I looked down and began to tug at the loose thread that hung off the old comforter, twisting it, twirling it- silently noticing that we were doing the same thing, avoiding the subject at hand.

I felt the bristle of what only had to be Craig's hand, brush against my thigh. A surge of heat shot up through my body and towards my brain, all the neurotransmitters probably crashing. Craig took a grasp of my hand lightly, our palms intertwining. I gulped, half in fear, half in confusion.

I am not going to do anything stupid with Craig. I am not.

I kept my eyes glued on my lap, following the pattern of my dress, trying to do anything but admit that Craig was in the room, holding my hand, like this. I felt Craig give it a little squeeze, my reflexes rebelling against every shout that I was screaming inside my head, and looked up, ultimately facing Craig's face. His eyes had a glossy gleam to them as the little muscles in my forehead began to throb. I began to chew, no gnaw, at the bottom of my lip hoping it would leave, so that I would have an excuse to flee like a baby and run upstairs. I glanced at him again, he having a look that made him seem honest for once in his life. He looked honest, with the probably the same amount of fear as I had. I didn't want to put him at risk of having to explain what really happened.

And then there was Ellie. Ellie loved him; I however, was in love with one time, as of now I don't think I'm in love with him that much.

I mean, I loved him for a while, and I probably always will- but the feeling will always be mutual. I'm sick of people hating me for something that I had control over. As of now, I do have control. I began to pull away as Craig grabbed my arm and pulled me back in again. As if it were in fast motion, Craig Manning's lips were now softly on mine. The bristle from the growing beard brushed roughly against my cheek. His lips, his tongue, the taste of it all was disgusting- as his tongue roamed around the insides of my mouth. I wanted him to stop; I wanted it all to stop. I felt his callused hand roam up and down my forearm, the feeling cold. I pulled away for what seemed like a millisecond, trying to grasp a hint of what seemed like air, a hint that this all wasn't just a dream as Craig went back at it again.

And then it hit me, I had finally moved on from Craig Manning. And it wasn't what I though it was.

His kiss wasn't the same, as it felt slimy. I didn't get satisfaction from the fact that if Ellie walked in right at this moment, then this image would probably wreck her. I wanted it stop, I wanted to cry, and I wanted to do anything than be with him, than doing this. We finally parted, as I moved backwards on the bed, the slimy, bittersweet, aftertaste crawling around in my mouth, trying to settle. I wanted to slap him, I wanted to castrate him and leave him on the side of the street. However, my arms felt like jello, staying obediently limp at both sides of my body.

"I would like to be friends, Manny." He said solemnly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I realized that he knew what he was doing. He knew, and even though I didn't want to admit it, I knew it too. This would be our goodbye in a way. We would now go on not having feelings of desire anymore, acting like normal adults who just leave their past in the closet. I wanted to thank him, thank him for letting me go, but I think that he knew that too. Craig had a way of surprising people that way.

"And you should shave."

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I walked upstairs after Craig did, to avoid any suspicion. I caught Ellie out of the corner of my eye, sitting in the corner sipping her beer- The whole, 'Don't-fuck-with-me" vibe, oozing out of her pores. Even though I knew I would probably regret this, and all the annoying voices in my head are regretting me doing this, my feet began to move towards her.

If Craig could have his philosophical moment, then why couldn't I?

I could feel her eyes making a hole straight through my large intestine as I stood in front of her. She knew I was there, as well as I knew that she was simply ignoring my presence. Being the queen of cold shoulders, I can wait. Surprised that I was still standing there, her head snapped up- probably half out of annoyance, and wondering why I was still standing there. In a way I was wondering myself.

"Don't let me stand in your way."

"Excuse me?" She snarled, her voice mixed with bitterness and anger, she seemed jagged even after she said it.

I saw her glare; I saw her glare hiding the fact that she was too, tired of everything. That she was already prepared for childish response. I sympathized for her, even though she probably wouldn't even want me to do that, but I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. I couldn't help feeling like crap for the fact that maybe I prevented her from almost having a 'white picket fence' moment for herself.

"Don't let me stand in your way. I know you hate me, and I hate myself too- but then again, I guess that's what you get for being me. Anyway, I'm not that great at saying sorry, and I'm not even going to try. It's just, we'll always have Paris, you know?" I said rambling off into my own dreamlike trance, quoting movie lines; as Ellie, now a little bit more intrigued, gave me a puzzled look, her eyebrows furrowed and forehead scrunched in.

"Me and Craig, we'll always have Paris. I mean, what happened between me and Craig will always be there- and I'm not going to apologize for that. Even though it eventually began to involve you, I'm not going to apologize for that. It happened, and now it's over- even though it sounds so lame, I don't want to keep on apologizing for it or fueling on, because I just want it to end…," I said truthfully, as Ellie now seemed to really be listening, At least I was doing something right, "Yes, I love him, love being in the past tense-but you like him, and you can deny all you want, but that's not my business…Craig is like the loch ness monster, and if you want that, then I'm not going to stand in your way. That's it, I promise." I said finishing my huge spheel, as Ellie tried to look unmoved by the whole thing. A grin slowly spread across my face as I turned around, thinking that she got the point. And I was just happy by that.

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A/N: The next chapter after this one will be a short chapter in Ellie's POV, and then the next chapter after that will be in Em's perspective. I'm still a little iffy when it comes to coupling, but there is something that is definitely unexpected.


	7. Oh Eleanor, How far have we come?

**_A/N: I would like some more reviews, but it isn't dire (Reviews just make me feel cheesy inside.) This chapter will be a little drabble chapter in Ellie's perspective, and is pretty short. _**

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**Oh Eleanor, How far have we come? **

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"What ever happened to a boyfriend? The kind of guy who would make love, cause he's in it?"-**Liz Phair**

'We'll always have Paris'?

Please.

Of all the things to use in an apology, she quotes a cheesy line said by Humphrey Bogart? Out of all the things to happen, this would. And to top off this big hypocritical cake, is that Craig Manning probably put her up to it.

No, scratch that, he did.

Craig Manning, also known as The Devil's advocate, and Manuela Santos teaming up again. Who would have thought?

Who would have thought that I, that I would fall for Craig Manning. Me, with my whole false 'Fuck-you', gothic, tough chick bravado.

Then again, I always thought that Alex Nunez had that role efficiently covered.

I hate guys like Craig Manning- the kind of guys with enough sugar coated charm that could make you gain ten pounds in his presence. He was annoyingly adorable, annoyingly sweet, and annoyingly stupid. He thought all the stupid stoner comedies that I hated were so funny; and laughed at them all; he tried to download porn onto my computer countless times, only to find out that there was a block; He chewed his food loudly, would smack his gum just to annoy me-talking with his mouth open whenever he ate cheetos; always critizing my music choices; His faux beard feeling like barb wire. All these things added up made me want to exile him forever, but I knew I never would. That's why I hate guys like Craig. I saw him remerge into the living room from the basement, that same arrogant smugness plastered all over his face.

Red Rover, Red Rover, please don't come over.

I watched as he walked towards my direction, a 50/50 chance of him actually coming over to annoyingly interact with moi. Even though the 50 percents would cancel out and he would come over to me. I didn't want him to come an inch near me, I didn't want to get caught up in him again, it was way too tiring. I could imagine the conversation in my at the moment,

"I can't believe you put her up to that"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't do that, you know what I'm talking about. This whole, naïve, 'I-didn't-do-it', troubled Katie Holmes thing doesn't do you justice."

"What?"

It was always the same, always denial. The smug smirk remained on his face.

"Anything Interesting happen?" He said, leveling the playing field.

The sarcastic tone in his voice was overshadowed by oblivion. I searched his face for a minute, to see if knew what I going to say, if he knew what I was thinking. It was obvious that he didn't, as I felt a lump in my throat. I was never really afraid of confrontation, in fact, I embraced it. In our house confrontation was a must, an unspoken rule if you will. It was the only thing that I was good at; being on the defense, calling out someone on their own bullshit. I like arguing, and just like accomplishing something big or getting an A on a test, it made me feel like I was right- like I have everything in control. With the right snide remark, I could make anyone feel like dirt. Confrontation is my adrenaline. The lump in my throat felt like it was increasing, the words that I planned on saying getting lost somewhere else. I was ready to scratch Craig Manning out of my life, tell him how I really felt, I really did.

Even though I wasn't afraid to confront Craig Manning and his demons, I couldn't. I couldn't do it yet, because I haven't faced my own.

He looked at me strangely, mainly because of the fact that I didn't come back with some type of comeback that was supposed to make me sound bitter. The words still were lost, my throat feeling dry and stiff. I guess it's time to take another blow, and go on the Craig Manning roller coaster once again.

"You should go into politics."

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	8. I Get A Sidekick Out Of You

_**A/N: I originally intended for this chapter to be in Emma perspective, but it makes more sense to be in Sean's. Like I've said for the umpteenth time, I would like more reviews just as a constructive critism thing, but it's not necessary… So, Enjoy!**_

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**I Get a Sidekick out of you**

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"Nobody puts baby in a corner"- **Patrick Swayze**

I scratched my bicep where my tattoo itched. Ever since I got it, I've been itching like crazy. I watched everybody else's drama unfold around me. Ellie was slinking around with her 'I'm so bitter' cloud of doom hovering over her. I really had faith in her, considering that she was one of the strongest people I knew- As of now; I just hoped that she found someone, because it was obvious that she needed someone to be her crutch, to be her whipping boy. She looked kind of pathetic now when she was depressed; a trait that I used to think was attractive when it came to her. But now, she was under the shitty clutches of Craig Manning, a dude who's still as slutty as Manny used to be, but instead has the power of a double standard. There he was now, standing in the corner of the room, hands in pockets, with a smug grin on his face- me, wanting to fucking punch it off his face. Craig was like one of those annoying, charming alpha male dicks who seemed to think to have it all, knew this, and thought everyone else knew it too. That is why I hate guys like him, that why I hate Craig Manning. Plain and simple. I saw Manny come towards me, out of the corner of my eye. She looked like the same old Manny, not a day over eighteen. I was glad that she got her life on track, she was too pretty, naive, decent, to let anything fuck that up. I just hope that she doesn't do any stupid bullshit, I really do hope.

She sat down dainty next to me on the couch and straightened out her dress. Even with this new attitude, she still kept up with her appearances. At least there was one part of the old Manny that wasn't lost.

"You look good." She said smiling, I reached up to my bicep and itched the damn tattoo again, harder than the previous times, my nails digging into my skin; my skin now having that burning feeling after you itch something for a long time, my skin probably red under my shirt.

"You do too," I said drinking the rest of my beer that I had sitting out on the table, "So I hear that you have this new acting gig…"

"Ahh, the acting thing, it's no big deal, really. I just got this small supporting role." She said, a surprise that she was being so modest about the whole thing. The old Manny would be gushing at this moment, a smile plastered across her face, so to see her not do it now was just odd. Meekly, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

I unbuttoned and buttoned the last button on my shirt, both of us obviously knowing what was on my mind, "Do you think she…," I said cutting myself off, as Manny frowned her face.

"I really don't know. I, mean, I don't think she does. But, you should ask her about it, not me." She said truthfully, and I couldn't get mad at her for that, I really couldn't. I itched my tattoo, my skin used to the feel of my nails digging in my skin. I continued this for a while, a wall of awkward silence between me and her.

"You know, if you need anything fixed or something like that, then just call me." I said awkwardly.

"OK, I'll hold you up on that." She said, her expression telling me to 'go', her eyes seeming rushed. I got the message, and without any hesitation, got up.

"Oh, Sean?"

"What?" I said turning around, Manny still on the couch.

"Can you ask Emma when the food is actually coming out? Because I'm starving, and I feel like I'm going to eat my foot…" I smirked after she said this, knowing that maybe not all is lost.

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I leaned on the kitchen doorway, and watched as Em leaned over and glanced at the stove. She readjusted the knobs a couple of times, before opening the stove- a cloud of billowing smoke coming with it.

"I'm fucked." She said exasperatedly, throwing her oven mitt down on the floor. It was funny to see her get mad or agitated, considering that she never did.

"What's the matter?" I said, trying to be the 'good guy', and walked over to her side, choking on the mixture of steam and smoke; the burning smell of whatever Emma attempted to cook was filling my throat.

"This is what's wrong." She said agitated still, while pulling the oven rack just enough to reveal what looked like a scorched chicken, or something that was once breathing. Angry, she lifted the pan, and walked over to the garbage can where she dumped the food. Some of it landed on a greenish teddy bear whose head was poking out the garbage can. I watched it slide down deeper into the garbage, it obviously not being chicken.

"You should know never to be near anything that involves fire." I said trying to get her to crack a smile.

Instead, she kept her pouty face on, and gave me a playful punch in my arm, which reacted my instinct to scratch my tattoo. I gazed at her for a minute, and in all fairness she looked great. Her skin instead of being pale or looking tired like everyone else's, it was glowing with tints of bronze in her cheeks. She was radiating this whole optimistic vibe which would annoy me if it were anyone else. Her blonde hair hung right above her shoulders, shorter from what it was a year ago. She had green contacts in her eyes, which reflected the light from the kitchen. I hated the fact that she always had high expectations about everything, only to be let down. I hated that she had to be disappointed, because quite frankly I thought she deserved everything, deserved the good moments. That's why I loved her, because she was going to get farther along in life then I ever freaking could, and even if she weren't with me there would be a chance that she could still be happy. We were both total opposites, me the rebellious, tough white kid from the wrong side of the tracks; and she- the opinionated, good hearted one. But together we were destined to fail, like Romeo and Juliet, but that didn't keep me from not loving her. I looked at her some more, as she cocked her eyebrow, not knowing what to think. I smiled at this.

"What's so funny."

"Nothing." Em began to sway back and forth on the balls of her feet, as I began to crack my knuckles. It stayed this way for what seemed like forever, as I waited for her to say something.

"I hate it being awkward between us," She said finally. I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting it to come to this, "I just want to know, that, I'm not mad at you anymore, I'm over it." I flinched at this, not wanting it to be officially over. " I just want us to be friends."

Friends. Even though I wanted to say yes, and make everything OK, but I couldn't.

"I can't just be friends with you, Em. I can't . I wish I could, but this isn't grade seven anymore and I can't just go along with my life like nothing has happened- because we have a lot of history, and I just want most of it to go away. I've got someone new now in my life," I said, my throat clenching," If we're still friends, then that'll get in the way."

"Enlighten me Sean, How? Do you still have feelings for me?"

"Uh, a little bit yeah, but that's not the reason…" I said lying through my teeth. Emma began tear up right in front of me, making me feel like a jackass. I didn't want to give her what she wanted, but this time it seemed like I had to.

"But see Sean, that's the thing, I don't have those types of feelings anymore towards you. That's why I wanted us to be friends again, to clear the air. That's why I wanted you here, to talk about it."

"That's not fair Em." I said through clenched teeth, as she wiped bottom crease of her eye with her index finger, her makeup smudged again.

"I know, but I couldn't imagine you not in my life. You've been there with me for mostly all of it, and I don't want it to change just because of sex."

She said the word 'sex' so casually, like it didn't matter. I flinched at this. I wanted to keep my defense up, act like a man, not let what she said get to me, even if it was honest. But I couldn't. I walked over to her, not knowing what the hell I was doing and gave her what seemed like a hug, even though there was a width of space between us. She enclosed us both by squeezing her arms around my waist. I let her rest her chin on my shoulder, smelling her scents. Her neck smelled like that orange stuff that I always hated, and let it linger for a minute through my nose- because frankly, this would be the last time that I could ever do this. Her hair smelled faintly like strawberries and vanilla. I could hear her sniffling as she squeezed me tighter. My arms stayed where they were, and I tried not to get emotional. She finally let go, still sniffling as she cleaned up her eye makeup. I straightened out the collar and bottom of shirt.

"So who is this mystery woman, eh?"

"Hopefully you'll meet her. Tonight, even."

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I itched my arm again, harder than the previous times, wanting to get out of here. I now saw Emma In another light, considering that she was no longer mine. There was no possibility of us being a 'we' again. I passed by Manny, who was now waiting for an outcome. I looked at her and shrugged my shoulders. She, getting it, raised her eyebrow. I continued to walk towards the door, passing Craig, who had a smug look on his face like he was actually reveling in my pain, mentally giving me the finger. I wanted to stop, have this Clint Eastwood moment, and finally sock the shit of him like I've wanted to do the whole night; but he wasn't worth it. I opened the door, trying not to cause a scene, and closed it behind me. The cool air crept up my shirt, as I continued to walk down the steps. I saw a red haired lump at the bottom step, and sat down next to her. She didn't notice me, and that was fine by me considering that I didn't want anymore drama tonight. I let my head fall into my hands, as the sound of her rubbing band snapping on her wrist was in the back round. I wanted everything to be completely silent, I needed to think.

"You were it." El said softly, I sighed angrily, not really wanting anymore drama to surface tonight.

"I mean, I should have waited for you when I had the chance," She said edging towards me, "But I couldn't because I didn't want to reveal my weakness towards you. I should've let the chips fall where they may, because look at us. We're both twenty something's who are letting our asses get kicked by life." She said finishing her whole melodramatic teen movie speech. She inched a little bit closer to me, eventually leaning her head on my shoulder. It wasn't endearing when she did it, instead it was almost disgusting, and I couldn't take anymore of it. I jerked my shoulder from underneath her head.

"What the fuck is wrong with everyone! Tonight everyone is apologizing, and whining, and crying. I did not come here for this! I came here to enjoy some time with some people that I've haven't seen in a while, eat, and get out. Why are you doing this to me?" I said getting off the stairs.

"I'm not doing anything to you Sean, so you can just lower your voice." She said timidly.

"No, ok, don't tell me what to do," I said louder now, "God, I have been waiting for a while for both you and Em to make up your minds, and now I'm done. I am done. You're going to have to find yourself another whipping boy, or better yet go be with Craig!" I said louder than I wanted to be.

"Craig! Craig! You think I want to be with Craig?" She said, now obviously upset. I began walk across the street, trying to block her crazy psycho feelings out of my head.

"Where are you going?" She said yelling at me across the street.

"I'm taking a walk!" I yelled back, wanting to get as far away from anything Degrassi as possible.

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